


Somebody Loved

by maddieaddam



Category: The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anxious Jay, Asexual Relationship, Cat adoption, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Protective Sledge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 22:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11390139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddieaddam/pseuds/maddieaddam
Summary: In the right atmosphere, with the right person, anyone can feel at ease. Or any cat.





	Somebody Loved

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruinsrebuilt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruinsrebuilt/gifts).



> This is a work of fiction inspired by and only intended to represent the roles played in the HBO miniseries The Pacific. No disrespect is meant to the real men of 1st Marine Division.

_Now my feet turn the corner back home_  
_Sun turns the evening to rose_  
_Stars turning high up above_  
_You turn me into somebody loved_

\- _Somebody Loved_ , The Weepies

 

"We ain’t goin’ home with every cat in the place, Jay,” Gene reminds his boyfriend for the third time as he carefully parallel parks his sedan outside the ASPCA cat shelter. He’s not meaning to rain on Jay’s parade at all, because they’ve been preparing for this choice a long time – from building up a sizable slush fund for any possible vet emergencies to collecting supplies and doing what Gene hopes is a good job of cat-proofing their apartment, the impending adoption has been the focus of their lives for nearly half a year.

The thing is that, while Gene is sort of teasing, he’s also sort of not. He knows perfectly well that Jay could walk into this little shelter packed with restless, needy cats of all shapes and sizes and ages and get overwhelmed by his need to care for all of them, and Gene doesn’t want him to come away upset by the thought of all the cats he couldn’t take. That’s not why they’re here.

Wording it that way just feels too on the nose, like targeting something in Jay he really adores in a slightly awestruck way, then attacking the vulnerable point when he means to make things better. So he sticks to the teasing, which makes the point but can also be shrugged off since Gene sounds like such a silly nag.

“I _know_ , Gene, I know,” Jay huffs without losing a bit of the spark in his big, disarmingly frank eyes, and Gene thinks he got it right this time. “Five at the most.”

Or did he?

The look on Gene’s face must really be something, because it makes Jay sputter his way into such hard peals of laughter that he has to turn away, even duck out of the car before he can gather himself again.

Gene wants so desperately to hold Jay’s hand as they walk into the small, charmingly untidy office space at the front of the shelter. Generally, his mind doesn’t catch and linger on desires like that, any bits of affectionate “normalcy” they’re better off avoiding in Mobile, Alabama not things he tends to crave in a public space anyhow.

This time, though, he wants to give Jay’s hand a little squeeze when they make eye contact at the front desk and Jay absently brushes his hair out of his eyes for what is sure to be the first time of hundreds during this process. He wants to give Jay a little peck on the cheek, whisper thanks in his ear for letting Gene plod along with this process until he felt secure in the notion of bringing another living creature into their home.

“‘Afternoon, boys.” A middle-aged woman with a kind face framed by chaotic grey hair – not curly, not wavy, just chaotic – steps in from a side door that must lead to the cats, judging by the noise and smells that spill out all around her until it’s shut again. She glances down at the clipboard in one hand, then squints at it: “Y’all must be – Eugene Sledge, and Jay De -”

Jay only lets her frown over the name for a split-second before interrupting, which is a mark of just how impatient he is to meet some cats; normally he’ll wait until he has something to correct, no matter how hard he may wince at the person’s attempt. “De L’Eau.”

He’s fidgeting, hands folding and unfolding in front of him. Gene notices the movement in his peripheral vision and touches the top of one hand, quick and light, which is enough to soothe them back to stillness.

“Delow,” she says with a brisk nod, pulling a pen out from behind her ear to jot something down – a phonetic spelling of the name, Gene would guess – before looking back up at them. “Well, Eugene, Jay – y’all come to give one of our babies a forever home?”

That choice of words is very deliberate, which Gene knows from speaking to other members of the rescue organization throughout the early stages of the adoption process. They tend to lean on expressions like _forever home_ to remind people that adopting a cat isn’t like buying a phone or car that can be upgraded when it becomes troublesome, or a piece of entertainment that one can just shut off when they’re too exhausted to engage with anything that demands too much attention.

Some of it feels patronizing, but when Gene thinks of the strays he’s seen in his life – less about the state of their coat and the thinness of their bodies, more about how they plead for any kind of attention and drink in kindness like parched castaways with only seawater within reach – he also thinks it’s worth the trouble.

“That we have, Ma’am,” he says. Jay just bobs his head in an eager nod.

“And y’all are – brothers? Roommates?”

Again, he can see the thrust of this particular question and its necessity, but it rankles Gene much more because of the angry colour he sees rising in Jay’s cheeks, the way Jay’s lips pull taut until they’re the only stripe of pale skin in a deep red face. All she wants is to know why they’re doing this together, and how long term a living arrangement they have, to ensure some kind of stability in the household.

But it’s never just that, not really, and that’s why Gene feels just as angry as Jay looks. Why not ask, instead of inserting all the safe possibilities that came to the tip of her tongue?

“We live together, Ma’am, and don’t plan on changin’ that in the near future. Or the far future, for that matter.” Gene’s voice is crisp and almost cutting, but he manages to maintain the bare minimum of politeness. From some wild place of pure instinct, he finds himself reaching out and gripping Jay’s hand at last, which makes Jay startle but also brings a shy smile to his face.

The woman’s eyes are a pale, pale sort of green you only expect to see on gum wrappers or bridesmaid’s dresses. They’re not as cold as blue eyes would be with that same washed-out quality as they move from Gene’s face to Jay’s, then to their joined hands, then back up to look Gene directly in the eye, but they’re not what anyone could call warm.

“We just want a cat,” Jay says in a tight, quiet voice, and Gene thinks he’ll leave the plea at that, but what he adds brings laughter bubbling dangerously to the back of Gene’s throat. “We’re not gonna dye it rainbow stripes and put it in hot pants, just as a pet.”

For some reason Gene couldn’t begin to guess, that’s what gets through to her, a new light kindled in her sun-bleached eyes as she holds out the clipboard and pen in their direction. “Right. C’mon, sugar, let’s find you a cat,” she says directly to Jay, so Gene accepts the paperwork and gives him an encouraging nod. Things will go quicker if they split the work between them, after all, and Jay should be the one to pick.

The office settles into peaceful silence while Gene fills out the shelter’s various forms, no sound louder than the scratching of his pen and an odd yowl from behind the door disturbing the stillness. He signs on the last line, draws an X to show Jay where his signature will need to go, then sets the clipboard on his knees and leans back in his chair.

Several minutes tick by, stringing themselves into quarters of an hour until Gene suddenly sits up and checks his phone to see that Jay’s been with the cats for nearly 45 minutes. Panic wants to rise up sour and scorching in his throat, but he takes a quick, calming breath and pulls out his phone instead of wasting time with fears of the worst.

 _Everything alright in there, darlin?_ He quickly texts Jay, and immediately gets back:

 _Gene! I almost had her! –_ With a red-faced emoji to show just how angry he is to have been interrupted in whatever it was Gene interrupted.

Now mystified rather than worried, Gene stands up to knock on the office’s side door, but Jay and the green-eyed woman re-enter through it before he has the chance. “You’re sure, now?” She says, resting a hand lightly on Jay’s shoulder. “Ain’t no guarantee she’ll ever get much friendlier than that, even if you treat her right.”

Jay nods, with a smile on his lips that Gene knows all too well – something about the subtle, pleased twist of his mouth when he’s made an important decision looks almost secretive, as though only he could ever understand his motivation.

“I’m sure, Ma’am. She’s not unfriendly, she’s just nervous, and if she doesn’t ever relax with me… well, it’ll still be better for her if she can live with people who’ll leave her alone.”

Bemused, she turns to Gene for some kind of explanation. “This boy crouched in front of an open cage for a whole half hour, never made a peep, never moved a muscle, tryin’ to get Loretta to peel herself out the back corner and come see him. He had her sniffin’ his fingers, too, ‘til his phone scared her.”

 _I almost had her_ , Gene thinks, and layers of understanding and fierce affection all overlap as he realizes what must have happened: instead of getting overwhelmed by all the need in that room, Jay let himself be drawn right to the one he could most easily fill, which was – of course – giving an anxious animal its space.

Sometimes Gene loves Jay so much that _he_ feels overwhelmed by it, like there’s not enough time in ten lifetimes to ever make the depth and breadth of his love clear, and no gestures or words will ever suffice.

“Just guessin’, but I’d say he made his choice,” the woman adds when she seems to decide she’ll get no more explanation from Gene than Jay. “You wanna come see her, too? Processin’ the paperwork’ll take a day or so, so if you wanna meet her -”

“Nah,” Gene says right away, “sounds like she’s already had a stressful day, better let her unwind.”

He glances sidelong at Jay, wondering if that might have sounded teasing in a cruel sort of way, but Jay is smiling at him like he just hung the moon and stars and he thinks he got it right again.

**Author's Note:**

> Ash asked for my take on an ace relationship, and by keeping that in mind while (hopefully) not allowing it to move into the forefront and take up unnecessary focus, I came up with this. I'm open to any and all feedback, because I only aim to listen, learn, and reach a better level of understanding when it comes to this topic.


End file.
